Every Minute
by ProtegoMaximaMyHeart
Summary: While visiting Hermione at her house, Ron learns about a part of her past that he wishes she told him and Harry.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other novels mentioned. All belong to their respective owners.

It was just another summer afternoon in England.

But to the wizards and witches who inhabited it, this was not the case.

For in the spring, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore fell to his death at the hands of well-respected, if not well-loved, staff member, Severus Tobias Snape.

After the funeral, everyone departed from Hogwarts with a heavy heart. With the death of Dumbledore, Hogwarts was no longer a safe haven. Then again, wherever they went, nowhere was.

Hermione was especially aware of this. Her Muggle parents were vulnerable to being hunted due to her close, essentially familial ties, with her best, and famous friend, Harry Potter. She knew that Voldemort's Death Eaters would stop at nothing to torture them for information of her whereabouts.

But as a teenage girl who was on her summer holiday, she tried to push this out of her mind. She was on her bed, perusing through the latest Muggle romance novel that she checked out of her library. Some would find it surprising that she would be reading something like this instead of the textbooks that she hauled around during the school year. Once they re-evaluated, it seemed to make sense with her relationship with Viktor Krum made public during her fourth year.

The summer air was hot, making her drowsy. Her hair drifted lazily in front of her face as her head bobbed back and forth. Crookshanks was on her stomach, and his purring only made her more relaxed. She jolted when she heard her mum yelled for her.

"Hermione! You have a visitor!"

She frowned and racked her brain, trying out who would figure who would visit her during the summer. Her thoughts were interrupted when a head with flaming red hair poked through the door.

"Why am I not surprised that you're reading during the summer?"

"Ron!"

She leapt off her bed, Crookshanks jumping off as well, and she hugged him, laughing. He picked her up and swung her around, prompting her to laugh some more.

"What are you doing here?"

"What? I can't see my best friend?"

"Oh of course you can! I just wasn't expecting any visitors at all this summer."

"Whoops."

"Do you want anything to drink? It's really hot and I bet you're thirsty."

"Do you have any lemonade? Dad heard about it at work and made some when he got home. It's pretty much all we drink now."

"Sure. I'll be right back." She walked out of the room, leaving Ron to look around her room.

He pegged her as the type of person who would have posters of scholars on her walls. He was partially right; there was a poster of Nicolas Flamel stirring a cauldron on her wall next to the door. But for the most part, it looked like a normal Muggle bedroom. Her walls were calm, muted colors. Feminine, but not too girly and Ron wasn't surprised. He smiled at the enormous bookcase next to her case. It was Hermione in a nutshell. All of her textbooks were organized on two of the five shelves and another shelf was dedicated to books like _Hogwarts, A History_ (her staple) _Fantastic Creatures and Where to Find__ Them_ and _History of Magic_, books for purely informational purposes. The titles of the books on the remaining shelves looked unfamiliar, but they sounded oddly romantic to him: _A Walk to Remember, Lady Chatterley's Lover, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Wuthering Heights…_ the titles just seemed to go on and on. Crookshanks curled up around his leg. Ron crouched down and gently scratched his head, Crookshanks purring his approval.

He turned and looked at her desk. Pieces of parchment were stacked in neat piles with her quill and inkpot next to them. He smiled at the pictures that lined the outskirt of her desk. Several of them were of her, himself and Harry, all smiles. He then noticed a picture of a girl in a tutu leaping gracefully across a stage. Upon closer examination, he realized it was Hermione…only younger. Turning around, he saw a pair of pink satin ballerina slippers pinned to the wall by the ribbons. Why had she never mentioned she was a ballerina?

He heard her come up the stairs and resumed looking at the books on her bookshelf.

"What do you think of my collection?" She placed two glasses of lemonade on her desk and stood next to him.

Ron smiled. "Didn't know you read these Muggle romance books. I thought you didn't like those sort of things."

"I'm still a girl, or have you forgotten?"

"Umm…"He pretended to be in deep thought and laughed when she smacked him with the paperback that was sitting on her bed. "Hey! I'm kidding!"

"I know. That's just reflex."

"And don't Harry and I know it."

She rolled her eyes. "Well here's your lemonade."

He picked up his glass and raised it. "To Dumbledore."

"To Dumbledore." They clinked their glasses and gulped back a large amount of it. She laid on her bed and Ron joined her, his hands behind his head. The sounds of birds chirping filled in the silence.

"How come you never told me and Harry you were a ballerina?"

Her eyes widened but they resumed their normal state. "I know, but I didn't think it was worth mentioning. It was a while ago."

"How come you stopped?"

She sighed. "My parents had signed me up for ballet classes at a really young age and I advanced through them, loving every single minute. But after I started going to Hogwarts, I had to stop because it interfered with class. My instructor loved me though. She wanted me to come back in the summer and work in summer productions of ballets." She became silent, shakily inhaling. Ron waited. "One year, we did a production of Romeo et Juliette. I was one of the chorus dancers, and I had to be lifted. Unfortunately, my partner was a git and dropped me. I broke my ankle. Once I tried to dance again after it healed, I sprained it. My instructor told me that if I tried to dance again and had another injury, I might never be able to dance again. So…I hung up my slippers for good."

It was silent again. Ron had a hard time thinking of a good response. He never had to give something up that he loved because life got in the way. He settled for the next best thing.

"Do you miss it?"

"Every minute of every day."

"For what it's worth, you looked fantastic in that picture. When was that taken?"

She laughed. She opened up about her dancing background late into the evening. As they were saying their goodbyes, Hermione couldn't help but feeling a little bit lighter. Ron waved from the sidewalk and disappeared with a crack that resonated through her neighborhood. She went back upstairs and resumed reading her book. She glanced at the slippers and smiled, finally feeling at peace.


End file.
